What Makes Spaniards Tick by Flavio
by NatD-LE
Summary: Flavio rather likes this new method of punishment that Santiago is using. When Santiago finds out, he comes up with a plan to break him of this attraction, before he breaks everything in his house! 2p Spamano. Nation AU. Rated M for office fun times and some shotacon material. Details inside.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or 2p Hetalia.**

**This is a 2p Spamano story I wrote for the creator of tumblr's most renown 2p Lovino, juju. This story contains some shotacon material (no sex) and office fun times as adults (office sex yay).**

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It didn't matter how long he's lived there and walked the same hallway to that door; the walk to the office seemed to last a century to Flavio. It wasn't exactly a common occurrence, but he had never been there for any other reason except for his chore list recently. This was different. Bel, with her sly smirk, informed him so.

Flavio's days of fearing his caretaker were long over. Perhaps in the beginning, the harsh Mr. Santiago intimidated him, but no longer. After centuries and a bit of growing up, he learned how to live in the household without getting on the old man's bad side. He even gained a bit of respect for Santiago. He handled a huge household full of colonies that came and went, plus the three that lived with him regularly, while juggling some money management for his bosses and the occasional attack from another nation. Flavio was a mere guest in his home and didn't need to be a further thorn in his side; he understood that now. So the boy did his chores, ate the food he was given, and did not complain. Granted, the attention Santiago gave him was sparse, but that meant less trouble for the little Italian anyway. Flavio went about his business as an underling happily and just lived in the house like it was an inn.

Which is why Santiago sending for him into his office was so odd and made him nervous. His feet dragged and he knew his slow speed would land him into further trouble, but he needed a moment to collect himself and try to think about why he is being summoned. Was it something he had done, or didn't do? Maybe there was a mistake and Flavio forgot/wasn't informed of a chore. It has happened once and, if Santiago's yelling was any indication, it would be wise if there was no second time.

No matter how much he shuffled his feet, Flavio soon found himself standing before the big wooden door, eyes level with the knob. After a deep breath or two, he carefully knocked on the wood. A short pause, then a gruff and accented 'come in'. He turned the knob and opened it inch by inch, peeking through the expanding crack. Santiago was sitting behind his desk, eyes trained on the papers in front of him.

"You… wanted to see me, sir?" Flavio piped up.

"Come inside and close the door." was all he said, not even looking up. The Italian slipped in, shut the door, and came closer to the desk. He had to wait a moment for the Spaniard to finish writing something before he put his quill pen down and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and cold and his shoulders were tensed; a jaguar biding his time, as Flavio once heard Roderich put it. "Flavio," he began "what chores have been assigned to you today?"

"Um…" Flavio's mind went blank for a split second and he looked down at his hands to think. "Dusting the sitting room, washing the dishes, and doing the laundry."

"When did you last wash the dishes?"

"After dinner"

"And you didn't notice anything… out of place?" His eyebrow was raised when Flavio looked up.

"No. I washed, dried, and put away the plates and cups like I always do. Nothing out of the ordinary happened." He tried to sound sure, but the look on Santiago's face gave him a small feeling of doubt. The man then stood and walked around his desk to sit on the desk in front of his underling. He grabbed something from his desk and showed it to Flavio. It was a plate; he recognized it at one of the plates he washed tonight. His eyes widened at it, heart sinking.

"Tell me, Flavio: what is that in the center of the plate?"

"A-a crack."

"This is one of the plates you washed today, right?"

"Y-yes."

"So…if nothing out of the ordinary happened today, please enlighten me—" he thrust the plate in the boy's face "as to why there is a CRACK on my PLATE?"

"I don't know! That wasn't there when I put it away a-and— I'm sorry, sir, I'm so sorry!" He tried to stifle the sobs and push back his tears. Crying never did any good; it just made him look weak in the adult's eyes. His face covered by his hands, he heard rather than saw the plate being set aside, followed by a sigh.

"Assuming you are telling the truth—" Santiago began again. "— the dishes were your responsibility today, so you're in trouble whether it was an accident or not. There will still be consequences."

"Y-yes sir." Flavio sniffled. Here it comes: the punishment. He has gotten punished by being yelled at, locked in his room, and even kicked so he'd fall over and get a mean bruise that lasted a week once. He braced himself for the worst. What would compensate for a crack in a plate? Maybe a crack in his own skin?

"Come here." Santiago ordered. Flavio hesitated, surprised, and took only one step forward before the man lifted him by his nightshirt and placed him on his stomach over his knee.

"M-mr. Santiago?" Flavio's nightshirt was thrown up and his underwear was yanked down. He shuddered when a breeze blew by his bare skin.

"Shut up." He heard the man growl from above him. Something brushed by his bare butt and made him bristle instantly.

"Wai—!" SMACK! Flavio cried out at the harsh impact against his bottom. A sharp sting followed and was soon accompanied by another slap, and another, and another. Each one milked yelps and cries from the young Italian. Tears sprang to his eyes from the pain. By instinct, he tried to wiggle away, but Santiago's other hand had a firm grip on him to keep him still on his lap.

Just when Flavio lost count how many time he had been spanked, it stopped and he was lifted off of Santiago's lap and onto the floor. "Go back to your room." he ordered. The boy nodded and fixed his clothes before running out of the room and back to his. Once he was safe behind his own door, he tried to comprehend what just happened.

Flavio's heart was racing, his butt throbbing and hot. He had never been punished like that. He had been hit before, but it was usually a smack upside the head. Santiago never spanked him on the butt until now. It was such a rush! Pain that slowly turned into something hot and, somehow, stimulating. Not to mention how he had to fix his clothes and bolt out of that room like some mistress. He rubbed his warm cheek in wonder. It still stung, and every touch to it felt like his nerves were electrically charged. He shuddered at the interestingly pleasant feeling.

The Italian may have the body of a 10 year old, but his mind was much older. He knew about sex, where babies come from, etc. He also knew how arousal felt; the feeling came once before, when he accidentally walked in on Belle getting dressed.

So what does one do with this information? Ignore it or explore it? For the sake of his self interests, there's no reason why Flavio shouldn't learn more about why he likes being abused by those warm and rough hands. At least, that was Flavio's reasoning.

So the boy crawled into his bed and began to plot. He couldn't simply ASK Santiago if he could be spanked again. It's supposed to be a punishment; if he learns that Flavio likes it, he'll find some other way to punish him. A much more cruel and unpleasant punishment. So he'd have to urge the Spaniard to 'punish' him again, without him finding out. Mess up somehow so he'd end up being calling right back into that office, bent over his knee, and have his poor sensitive bottom abused until it is cherry red.

So, for a week, that's what was on Flavio's mind. He went through his days almost robotically. Every so often, he paused while doing a chore and though, is this the one I should mess up? Every time, he declined, whether because he was sure it'd go unnoticed or it ran the risk of a different punishment or it screwed someone else over. He couldn't knock over a vase in the living room if Bel was dusting in there later, or do laundry if it was Ned's turn he couldn't even sneak any mice into the house, because the cat would eat it before Santiago would notice. The little Italian was getting antsy with anticipation. The beating from the other night left dark shadows along his ass that stung to the touch. He was sure, if they were disturbed, the pain would double. He had to get a move on before they completely faded.

Finally, he found his opportunity. Flavio was in charge of doing the laundry one day and Santiago gave him instructions to wash his clothes first and separate from everyone else's. He had run out of clean clothes, apparently. All it took was one colorful sock in the basin of light shirts and his clothes had been turned into a weird light pink color. That night played out just like the previous. Bel told Flavio that Santiago needed to see him and he practically ran to the office. He entered and was scolded right away for the state of his white shirts.

"I'm sorry, sir." Flavio whimpered, looking down.

"Sorry is not going to cut it! This was my favorite shirt, you twit!"

"Please, Mr. Santiago. It was only an accident."

"I don't care. You're still going to be punished." And so he grabbed Flavio by his clothes, stripped his lower half, and spanked him. This time around, he took the time to enjoy it. The feeling of those calloused hands manhandling his butt and making the sensitive skin tingle and burn from old wounds. It made his heart pound and his hands gripping the cloth of Santiago's pants tighten. He had to put one over his mouth to muffle his cries so they didn't sound like ones of want and need. As soon as it began, it was over. Flavio almost didn't want to leave his lap, but Santiago shoved him off. He redressed and rushed to his room to 'reflect' upon the experience.

Flavio was hooked. Any chance he got, he'd have 'accidents' that got him sent to that office and punished. Each time, he got more and more insistent on Santiago specifically spanking him. This, of course, didn't escape the notice of the caretaker. He was confused as to why Flavio was suddenly making all of these mistakes. Broken china here, a shoddy cleaning job there. He was doing fine all of these years, and these were mistakes were easily avoidable. He idly wondered if the boy was sick and asked Bel and Ned if they noticed anything odd. They both claimed that Flavio looked fine and normal, doing his chores like he normally would. So sickness was out.

Then, he noticed the Italian's reactions to his new method of punishment, which Francis had actually suggested once after trying it on his underling. He had guaranteed that it would make him careful not to mess anything up in fear of getting abused. But Flavio was messing up more and more, and each time he punished him, it seemed like he was just returning to his lap for more. He consulted Francis and the dirty blonde claimed, with a wrinkle of his nose, that Flavio might actually enjoy the spanking. Either Santiago was doing it wrong or his underling had just discovered a new kink.

Sexual kinks were nothing terribly new to the Spaniard. He had met different people with different preferences when it came to the bedroom. While Flavio's body was kept small and childish due to his rule over him, he knew the Italian was an adult on the inside. Even if he didn't realize his want, his body did. So what was Santiago supposed to do about it? If he confronted the child, it would only bring up a whole awkward situation. If he ignored him, he might keep breaking his stuff and screwing up his clothes until Santiago gave him what he wanted. Perhaps the best solution, and the only one Santiago thought of, was to break him of the habit— until he was old enough for his own bedmates, at least.

So when he messed up on another chore (a fallen painting while he was dusting them), he told Bel to call Flavio into his office. The boy came quickly, as expected. "Sir? Is there something wrong?" Santiago nodded and gruffly chided the kid for his mistake. He looked at his feet in remorse. "I'm sorry, Mr. Santiago. It was all my fault. I accept full responsibility." He took a few steps forward and waited. Nothing happened. He peeked up to meet his caretaker's eyes. "S-sir? Aren't you… going to teach me a lesson? I nearly damaged a priceless painting today. You should punish me, no holding back." His heart kickstarted when Santiago picked him up and placed him across his lap. His nightgown was pulled up, no underwear underneath. Flavio bit his lip in anticipation.

"Count to 10."

"…What?" Flavio blinked. He didn't expect that.

"You heard me. Count!" The Spaniard barked again, making him jump.

"Uhm… one… t-two—"

SMACK! "No screw ups!"

"A-Ah! Th-three—"

SMACK! "Don't cheat! Every time you screw up, you start over!"

"One… t-two…"

SMACK! "Again!"

"O-one—"

SMACK! "What, you don't even know how to count?" Santiago taunted. This went on for a while, the counting, spanking, and taunting, before Flavio finally began to favor his pride over his sexual needs. He counted to 10 without any screw-ups. When he was done, the two just stayed where they were for a long time. It was already getting late and Flavio was falling half asleep. The older man stared down at the half bare child laying across his lap, his butt beet-red over the dark shadows received from weeks of abuse. He could only hope that the Italian learned his lesson and that he won't have to deal with any of his property getting damaged again.

Gently, he let his hand slide against the small red cheeks. They were very hot. His hand grabbed the butt gently and squeezed, eliciting a soft gasp from the younger. His knuckle just barely grazed the hole in between and he heard a soft whine. Santiago sighed and sat back on his desk against his hands. "Where did I go wrong in raising you?" He wondered out loud.

"Santiiii."

"Flaviiii." Santiago mocked, rolling his eyes but not taking them off of his papers. He had been stuck a good part of the day inside to do some work for his boss. Sometimes, it felt like the only reason he was around was to do his boss's work for him. Even so, it was his duty, so he endured it. Unfortunately, his unwanted house guest kept distracting him. He had allowed the blonde to enter his home, accompany him into the office, and even sit on his desk. Now, the brat wanted some 'entertainment'.

"Can't you take a break for a few measly minutes? You're not being a very gracious host."

"Well, not everyone can host parties out of a mansion with maids like some great Gatsby. Which makes me wonder why you're HERE instead of THERE."

"I got horny and thought of you, my dear." Flavio purred, clearly being facetious with his choice of words but his intentions sincere.

"Where are those 'pets' of yours?"

"Oh come on, Santiago. A person can want something— or someone— different every day. It's not a crime."

"Even so, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not interested. Come back next month." That was clearly not the answer Flavio was looking for. The Spaniard had to sit back in his seat to avoid having his arms crushed when Flavio purposefully laid down on top of his work. "Fucking—! You're like a cat in heat, you know that?! You aught to be neutered."

"Mmm, no thank you. That would be unfortunate." The blonde wrinkled his nose, a coy smile playing at his lips. "There's something else you could do to those parts, however. No surgery required." Santiago's eyes narrowed. He was losing his patience.

"Get off of my desk."

"What do I get if I do?"

"You get to leave here in one piece."

"Mmm, but I'd rather be torn in two instead." His hand started tracing the folds of his jeans (probably designer) at his crotch.

"Would you knock it off? Go home already."

"After I came all this way to see you? Tsk, you're so rude."

"I fucking swear to God, if you don't get off of my desk right now, I'll hit you."

"Do it, then. If I'm being such a bad boy, then Boss should punish me." Flavio's eyes suddenly lit up at the idea. Santiago said nothing, so the blonde leaned in closer to him. "How about it, Mr. Santiago?" He breathed.

The dark-haired man concluded then, without a reasonable doubt, that the Italian won't give up or get off of the desk. So with a frustrated growl, he grabbed him and yanked him off the desk onto his lap. In one swift motion, he yanked both jeans and underwear down. Before a word could be uttered, Santiago brought his full hand down on one of the tan ass cheeks before him.

"Ah! Ohh, does this bring back memories." Flavio chuckled breathlessly. He inhaled sharply when the same hand grabbed and squeezed his backside before slapping it again.

"Alright, I'll play your little game. You want to be punished? Fine. I'll teach you a lesson about interrupting me while I'm working." He spanked him again a few more times, milking lewd moans from the blonde while his ass turned cherry red. Then, he gripped him by the shirt to move him onto the desk, bent over the edge. A few items came tumbling off to the floor. Flavio's pants slid down in a heap to his ankles. The Spaniard leaned down over him to put his lips to his ear.

"Had enough?"

"Not even close." He shuddered, keeping his head rested on his arms, and smirked when something distinctively began to prod at his hole. "Well, it seems someone is a little turned on."

"I'm holding you personally responsible."

"Mmmm, yess, it's all my fault!" Flavio groaned and panted at the fingers he felt prodding and slipping into his entrance. "I deserve to be punished, no holding back!" He gasped softly at the stinging pain from the poorly lubed fingers and dug his nails into his arms. Santiago moved and curled the fingers quickly. He yanked them out, causing a yelp from the blonde, and slicked his cock to replace them.

The desk trembled from the movement caused by these two. Important papers wrinkled, but they couldn't be bothered with such things. Santiago grunted with every thrust, sometimes smacking his Italian on the ass. Flavio flipped between moaning and yelling out dirty things. "Mmm! Yess, that's it! H-hit me! Punish m-me! Show me who's boss! Ahhnn, so biiig~" The older man finally had to clamp his hand over his mouth, muffling his moans and keeping him short of breath. One last harsh squeeze of his lower cheek and a good hard thrust against his prostate was Flavio's undoing, and the tightening of his insides finished off Santiago not soon after. He pulled out and sat back in his chair while the blonde in front of him regained his breath.

"Now get off of my desk and let me finish my work." Santiago ordered, giving the ass before him one last smack. Flavio chuckled and complied, slipping his pants back up before leaning over and giving his grumpy lover a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes sir. When you finish, I'll be up in the bedroom if you need me." He winked and strolled over to the door as best he could with his sore bottom. Santiago scooted his chair closer and began reorganizing the wrinkled pages when he noticed the 3 he had been working on previously. They were overlapping when he had been working on them and, apparently, right underneath Flavio when he was being fucked.

"YOU FUCKING CAME ON MY WORK!"

"Perhaps I could do something to relax that stressed head of yours." Flavio suggested quickly before shutting the door and running upstairs, in hot pursuit of the raging Spaniard, now hell-bent on making him pay. It doesn't matter how long they've lived apart or who they have been with; Flavio was always the expert on what made Spaniards tick.


End file.
